


dance dance, we're coming apart to half time

by newtmasdoesthedo



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6643756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtmasdoesthedo/pseuds/newtmasdoesthedo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They’re gay.”</p><p>“It’s a gay club.” Newt stated, not entirely sure what Minho’s point was.</p><p>The Asian rolled his eyes. “Bravo, Einstein, it’s a gay club, you can read signs. I meant that Thomas knows them. He knows that they’re gay. Teresa and Brenda are together.”</p><p>He didn’t get what Minho was getting at. “Uhm… your point?”</p><p>Minho let out a sigh so loud it was audible despite the music. Newt frowned at him. Rude. Rude bartender. Rude hot bartender, but still rude bartender. “Look, blondie, I don’t know who you are, but Thomas took half an hour getting up the courage to talk to you, and he’s not one to get scared away easily. It’s gonna be expensive for me if I have to use my discount to keep this newfound alcoholism of him going whenever you’re near, so I’m only going to say this once before I have to go back to serve drinks to that bachelor party over there.” He started, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb to a big group of guys in very tight pants. “So listen close. Thomas likes you. Thomas drank a lot to find the courage to go for you. He’s like a puppy, he’s loyal. Give him a chance."</p>
            </blockquote>





	dance dance, we're coming apart to half time

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so for some reason Ao3 accidentally deleted this back some time ago, so if you guys are like OH MY GOD SHE WROTE AGAIN I'm so sorry to disappoint, I didn't. Or I did, but not this. I'm working on something bigger and I'll be returning to my old fics, trying to finish up Ink My Skin and Forever I Pray, but the thing is, I want to make sure I can actually do it before getting people's hopes up, so it's gonna be a long time coming. Rest assured, I AM working on it, and I really hope there's still someone out there that'll be interested in my stuff still. Love you guys!

Newt wasn’t actually that much of a club-person when it all came down to it. He had fun when he went, sure, but he didn’t actively search out the large bodies of people and the obnoxious idiots pushing, grinding, and trying to grab a feel whenever they got the chance.  
  
That meant that Gally and Alby’s suggestion to go dancing to blow off some steam hadn’t exactly been met with intense enthusiasm. He’d begrudgingly agreed, and his friends had soon joined the crowd of undulating bodies while Newt was nursing his pint, trying not to look too grumpy. He liked the song playing well enough, he just wasn’t the dancing type, and that was fine by him. He could entertain himself while he friends were out there. And by entertain, of course meant silently judging the drama and flirting happening on the dance floor.  
  
It wasn’t that he minded that other people did it, he just didn’t want that sort of thing for himself. He wasn’t interested in mindless sex with mindless pretty faces, and he certain wasn’t interested in _drunk,_ mindless sex with mindless pretty faces drunk off their asses. He had a hard time seeing how that would be particularly enjoyable to anyone involved. So instead he closed his eyes and let the rhythm pound through his body, enjoying the music and the mood on his own.  
  
“Hi. You okay?”  
  
And the solitude was ruined. It had only been a matter of time anyway, so Newt opened his eyes, forcing himself not to sigh, and he was grateful for that when in front of him stood a tall, attractive dark haired guy with liquid gold eyes and a smile that made Newt’s heart jump just a bit. He was handsome in a way that was almost annoying, and he was _beaming._  
  
“Yeah. I’m good. ‘Was just taking it all in.” he stated, taking another sip of his beer and hoping that the guy would get the point when he didn’t keep speaking to him and leave.  
  
He didn’t, though. Instead, he leaned over the bar and snatched a bottled beer, twisting off the cap. At Newt’s accusing glance, he nodded towards the bartender. “I have a running tap, Minho is my best friend. You here alone?” he asked, and then he started drinking, and Newt was only now noticing the way chocolate hair curled around his nape. He’d been dancing. Definitely, and he was obviously thirsty from it because what felt like seconds later he’d downed that entire beer. Newt couldn’t help but be a bit impressed, although he was also a little disgusted. That kind of guy, huh? Newt shouldn’t be surprised. He’d always had a talent for attracting that kind of man, and this one might be gorgeous, but he probably wasn’t any different than the others just because his shoulders were so broad Newt wanted to cling to them.  
  
“Oh. Good for you. No, I’m here with my friends.” He nodded in the general direction of where Alby and Gally were grinding against each other. Huh. He hadn’t seen that one coming, but maybe they were just having fun. His mind wandered shortly, realizing that Gally and Alby together with their tempers could be a catastrophe. He didn’t get much time to reflect upon the possible implications of the drunken antics of his two friends, though, because the guy was moving in to sit next to him on a chair, just a bit closer than Newt thought proper (then again, they were at a club, maybe Newt was the only one worrying about proper).  
  
The brunette frowned at him. “It’s not nice of them to leave you alone here. I’ll keep you company.”  
  
Newt started protesting, but the guy just kept talking. “I’m Thomas. What’s your name?”  
  
A soft sigh from the blonde, “Look, Thomas, I’m sure you’re a nice guy and everything, but I’m not really interested, I’m just here to have a nice night out with my mates.” He tried, hoping that that would actually be enough. He had to get the hint, right?  
  
Apparently not, because he frowned in confusion and cocked his head. Of course you couldn’t have brains and beauty at the same time, Newt thought. God didn’t give with both hands. “I didn’t mean anything, I just wanted to talk, maybe dance with you. You looked grumpy, I was just trying to cheer you up.” He promised, and he looked so upset that Newt actually felt a little bit bad about rejecting him so coldly.  
  
He rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply. “I’m not going to dance with you. I’m not a dancing person.”  
  
The brunette blinked, confusion once again clear on his face. He looked like a puppy that had run into a glass door. “But… everybody loves to dance. You might not do it a lot, but when you dance you let go of your worries. Dancing is fun.” He argued, evidently not getting the point at all. Newt wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch him or hug him.  “Okay, okay, no dancing!” the bloke said quickly, holding up his hands in front of his chest as though to make it clear that he wasn’t going to press the subject any more right now. “But you have to let me buy you a drink for annoying you. As an apology.” He tried.  
  
Newt sighed. As a rule, he didn’t take drinks from strangers. You never knew, but if he saw him open a beer, he couldn’t miss if the brunette tried to spike it, right? He ended up nodding reluctantly, having the feeling that he wouldn’t get rid of it unless he agreed to have a drink with him. Thomas leaned over the counter again and grabbed another beer, opening it with his own bottle. “There, much better.” He said, and Newt just sighed into the bottle. He was cute. He was really, really cute, but Newt just didn’t believe in the whole bar scene, and he wasn’t one for one night stands. If the guy had pursued him at some other time Newt might just have said yes (if he would’ve believed that the guy was honestly interested and not playing a prank on him or something like that; Newt’s self-esteem could use some work as Alby often pointed out.)  
  
This was different, though. This was a stupid, crowded bar, and though this guy was pretty, he obviously wasn’t the fastest runner on the track brains-wise. He shouldn’t have been _this_ hard to shake off. “So, what do you do when you’re not rejecting handsome guys like me at bars?” the guy asked, and he was so lame Newt accidentally laughed – this pulled a beam from the other guy, and Newt bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling back. Instead he just stared at him, deadpanning: “Assasin.”  
  
The brunette stared at him for a couple of seconds in clear thought before starting to smile. “You’re funny.” He stated, and Newt wondered if he was playing along or if it had honestly taken him that long to figure out that Newt _wasn’t_ a hitman. “I study engineering. I’m almost done with my masters degree.”  
  
This time Newt was the one looking confused. He blinked, trying to shake his shock off, but not managing, and disbelief coloured his tone when he answered. “ _You_ study _engineering?_ You don’t look nearly old enough to have a masters degree.”  
  
“Finishing it,” The brunette stated, looking like he’d heard these questions plenty of times and wasn’t even offended anymore if someone didn’t believe him. “And yeah. I skipped some classes in high school. I’m a genius.” He explained, and he said it so matter-of-factly that Newt found himself almost believing him. Almost.  
  
“But you don’t seem-“  
  
“Smart?” the guy interrupted, laughing, “No, I know, Minho tells me all the time. Just a sec, let me get my student ID, I’ll prove it.” He promised, and when he handed Newt his ID, the blonde sighed. Okay. Okay he could deal with this. Just because the bloke was gorgeous and ridiculously clever but also very weird didn’t mean he couldn’t say no to him.  
  
He licked his lips and handed it back. “Oh. Good for you. Congrats on being smart. I study linguistics.” He muttered, not knowing what the hell to do with this guy now. He didn’t fit any of the boxes Newt had initially put him in. He decided not to say any more and just take a sip of his beer instead. “This is really good.”  
  
The try of steering the conversation in another direction was of course just that – but the beer _was_ good and he quickly memorized the label. It seemed fancy, and he added great taste in beer to the growing list of reasons to avoid this guy. When people seemed too good to be true, it was often because they _were._  
  
“Yeah, Minho told me about it.” The self-proclaimed genius stated and pointed at a tall, handsome Asian at the end of the bar.  
  
Newt’s gaze trailed down a broad chest and flicked to powerful biceps quickly before going back to Thomas. He furrowed his brows a bit, looking back at Minho and to Thomas again. Was it like a secret club for ridiculously handsome people? He wasn’t quite certain how to say this, so he worded his next sentence carefully, trying to make it sound as little as an accusation as possible. Which didn’t work at all when he blurted out: “Isn’t it bloody rude to flirt with another guy in the bar where your boyfriend works?”  
  
Thomas surprised him by instantly starting to laugh his bloody arse off. “Me and Minho? No way, no no. We were friends for a long time, but he’s not my boyfriend. That would never work. I think half the time he wants to punch me in the face, and when he doesn’t want to punch me, I want to punch him.” He assured, holding up his bottle in a silent cheers-gesture, and Newt felt… well, mortified. He’d just assumed that people as handsome as Thomas and Minho would date each other, because they obviously weren’t going to find people hotter than each other no matter where they looked. If they’d come up and told him they were model-boyfriends he wouldn’t have batted an eye. (Well he would, but only because that would’ve been a stupid-ass thing to tell someone.)

“Uhm.” He started, now completely at a loss for words. He was saved, of course, in the most unpleasant way possible.  
  
“Hey! You’re the guy who got in front of us in line _and_ spilled your beer on me!” Gally half-yelled, and Newt wanted to lie down and let the crowd trample him to death if it could free him from this embarrassment. That didn’t happen, of course, because Newt had rotten luck, and instead of dying and not having to live through this, Gally and the guy started talking to each other, each claiming that they had every right to be angry. Newt sent Alby a pleading glance, hoping to God that his friend would save him from this. Alby seemed thoroughly amused, though. No help could be expected from him, and Newt decided that he needed to rethink who were his real friends and who definitely weren’t.  
  
“Hey Thomas!” He stated quickly, shocking himself in grabbing the bloke’s hand, but they were garnering way more attention than Newt was comfortable with and he needed to distract either Thomas or Gally. Gally was out of the picture, because when he started getting angry there was no way to get him to calm down before he’d punched someone in the face.  
  
‘ _Be a shame if that pretty face was hurt._ ‘His brain supplied, and he almost rolled his eyes at himself.  
  
Thomas looked just as shocked as he was at the sudden touching, but Newt just pulled him towards the floor. “Come on, let’s dance, Gally and Alby can have the rest of my beers.” He stated, putting both the pint and the bottled beer on the counter and dragging Thomas off towards the dance floor. Both Thomas and Gally seemed too surprised to argue, and soon Thomas was flashing him that stupid smile again, and Newt once again had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. After they’d moved far enough away, he let go of Thomas’ hand and sat down in the nearest available seat – a soft loveseat couch. Thomas instantly flopped down next to him, and yet again Newt couldn’t help but think of a giant, happy puppy. “I was just saying the dancing thing to get you away from Gally before the two of you got in a fight. He gets bloody aggressive and he doesn’t listen to reason when he’s like that. He’s sort of a mean drunk.” Newt stated, moving a bit to put as much space between him and Thomas on the couch as humanly possible.  
  
Kicked puppy. Great. Thomas looked defeated in a way that almost made Newt feel bad. “Look, it’s not about you, Tommy, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, I’m just not into the whole bloody partying-and-getting-laid scene.” Newt stated, sighing heavily because Thomas was looking at him with those huge eyes, and he didn’t know exactly why, but he felt his resolve slowly but steadily dwindling.  
  
“It’s just dancing. I won’t expect anything. If you think I’m a horrible dancer and you hate my guts you can totally just leave, I’d never want to pressure you into anything, I just… you’re really hot, okay? You’re really hot and smart and funny, and I haven’t known you for very long, but I can tell. I’m sorry if I came on too strong, I’ll leave now, okay? I’ll be at the bar if you change your mind, and if you don’t that’s fine. I’ll tell Minho that I’m paying for your tab if you have one, I didn’t mean to get in a fight with your friend or annoy you or anything.” Thomas promised, and Newt slapped a hand in front of his own face and groaned into it. This guy was literally perfect.  
  
When he looked up, though, the brunette had disappeared onto the dance floor where he was apparently having some kind of weird dance-off with two girls to Hips Don’t Lie. What a weirdo. Newt didn’t know why he was feeling a stab of jealousy when the girls made a sandwich around Thomas, all three of them grinding up against each other, but he did, and he couldn’t drag his eyes away from them. “He moved on quickly.” He muttered under his breath, trying not to glare because obviously the girls couldn’t help it and Newt himself had rejected Thomas multiple times already. Tommy didn’t owe him anything.  
  
The couch dipped again, and Newt turned his head, ready to reject whoever had put an arm behind him on the couch at once but stopped dead in his track when he realized that it was the ridiculously handsome bartender. _‘Minho. Thomas’s hot not-boyfriend.’_ His ever so helpful brain supplied.  
  
“They’re gay.” Minho stated, looking bored with it all already. How a person could be so hot while looking so indifferent was beyond Newt.  
  
“It’s a gay club.” Newt stated, not entirely sure what Minho’s point was.  
  
The Asian rolled his eyes. “Bravo, Einstein, it’s a gay club, you can read signs. I meant that Thomas knows them. He knows that they’re gay. Teresa and Brenda are together.” He stated, pointing at the trio just as Brenda leaned over Thomas’ shoulder to kiss Teresa. Thomas didn’t seem to mind much – he was obviously a touchy-feely kind of bloke. Newt didn’t know why that was so endearing and so weird to him at the same time.  
  
He still didn’t get what Minho was getting at, though. “Uhm… your point?”  
  
The sigh Minho let out was so loud it was audible despite the music, and Newt frowned at him. Rude. Rude bartender. Rude hot bartender, but still rude bartender. “Look, blondie, I don’t know who you are, but Thomas took like half an hour getting up the courage to talk to you, and he’s not one to get scared away easily. It’s gonna be expensive for me if I have to use my employee-discount to keep this newfound alcoholism of him going whenever you’re near, so I’m only going to say this once before I have to go back to serve drinks to that bachelor party over there.” He started, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb to a big group of guys in very tight pants. “So listen close. Thomas likes you. Thomas drank a lot to find the courage to go for you. He’s like a puppy, he’s loyal. Give him a chance.”  
  
And then he stood up and left, which once again confirmed Newt’s firm belief that he was a very rude and very handsome bartender. He did seem to have a point though, so Newt decided to listen to him and stood up, brushing off his pants although he couldn’t possibly have gotten them dirty just by sitting here, and then he walked onto the dance floor. “Excuse me,” He said, trying to push past some girls grinding in front of him, not managing to make himself heard, and going around them instead. “Excuse me, may I,” and it went on like that for a couple of minutes before he finally got to the trio. “Uhm… Sorry if I’m disturbing you girls’s… I’m… You’re a very cute couple, but may I borrow Thomas?” He asked, feeling more and more awkward for every overly polite word that left his lips. The girls turned their heads at the same time, and Newt felt a bit self-conscious under their scrutinizing gazes. Then they smiled at the exact same time, and Newt decided that they were probably one of those couples that had been together forever and adopted each other’s mannerisms.  
  
Thomas had squirmed out from between them, though, his hair mussed up and his skin slightly sweaty (Newt was feeling sort of hot himself, having had to shove his way through the crowd and with the club being just generally hot). Newt’s mouth felt slightly dry but his hands were clammy. The smile Thomas sent him made his heart pound and he opened his mouth, fumbling for words and coming up empty handed.  
  
The brunette seemed to understand, though, because he easily dodged the girls reaching out for him and moved towards Newt instead, placing questioning hands on his hips. His eyes seemed to ask _‘is this okay?’_ and without consciously deciding to, Newt nodded, only to be pulled a little closer and led away from the girls who were wolf-whistling (once again in creepy unison). Butterflies had taken over his stomach, and he was thankful for the flashing lights in the club, because that meant being able to hide how red his face was from the gaze Thomas was sending him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Newt didn’t dance with beautiful strangers at clubs; Newt didn’t look at strangers and dream of them taking him home and having wild, passionate sex. Apparently he did, though.  
  
Thomas led him expertly through the crowd, obviously more used to the club-scene than Newt, and Newt was thankful for the hand on his waist that managed to steer him to a spot that the crowd had somehow missed. There, the brunette turned around and beamed at him again. “I’m glad you changed your mind.” He said, and Newt could do nothing but nod mutely. Only after Thomas had put warm hands on his waist did he find his voice again. “Minho told me that you were nervous to talk to me.”  
  
Thomas groaned softly, only apparent from the face he made, because the music was pumping too loud for the sound to actually carry. Newt just smiled. He felt a bit off-beat. He felt out of his element, but the warm hands holding him felt like they belonged here, and if they did then maybe he could find a place here too. So he leaned into the touch, and he didn’t know for how long they danced or when he started feeling comfortable with it, but the music seemed to decide to match the feeling that was rooted inside him and slow down. Time floated by slowly, but in the best of ways. They kept making eye contact, and Newt wanted it, but he was constantly surprised at the softness of liquid-gold eyes catching his time and time again. They were almost silver in the coloured light, but Newt knew they were golden. It was the first thing that had struck him about Thomas for real. They were beautiful eyes, and maybe he was more drunk than he thought, because he felt himself growing a bit annoyed with the blueish lights for trying to conceal the warmth of the amber colour.  
  
He was just about to blurt out exactly that, but then Thomas moved in a bit closer, eyes questioning, and Newt swallowed thickly, licking his lips. Strong arm tightened around him a bit harder and he let himself melt into the touch in front of him, putting his cheek on Thomas’ shoulder and looking out over the dancing people. He might be drunk, but he wasn’t certain he wanted this just yet. Instead he let Thomas hold him, and to the brunette’s credit he did nothing to change his mind, just tightened his grip ever so slightly and rocked Newt softly to the music, seemingly content with slow dancing.  
  
When the song ended Newt almost felt cheated. Somehow he had gotten the idea that the song would go on forever, that nothing could take this moment away from him. “And you said you don’t dance. You’re a great dancer.” Thomas stated next to him, and Newt snorted with laughter as he pulled back to look into the brunette’s eyes.  
  
“You’re biased because you think I’m cute.” He countered, cocking an eyebrow and slowly letting go of Thomas’ neck where his arms had been resting – the brunette caught his hands quickly though, not allowing him to pull them away. His grip was soft and Newt felt the corners of his mouth quirk up a little bit. “Very biased.” He added, trying to communicate his amusement in his tone.  
  
Thomas just shrugged. “I don’t see how I could stop myself from being biased. Does this mean we’re done dancing?” And he looked disappointed enough that Newt melted back into his embrace, and this time he didn’t move his face when Thomas moved in. Instead he enjoyed the soft lips pressing against his ever so slightly.  
  
It was one of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had and he vowed to tip Minho plenty, but that was for later. Right now was for clutching at Thomas’ neck and pressing in close, enjoying the warmth and the proximity of this gorgeous, genius, idiot weirdo in front of him and the way Thomas held him close by his waist while kissing him softer and slower than he’d ever been kissed before. Right now was for enjoying the fireworks and the butterflies in his stomach and the excitement of feeling so wanted, and when Thomas finally broke the kiss Newt was feeling sort of dizzy because he’d forgotten to breathe, but he still felt disappointed that his kiss was taken from him. That soon passed, though, when the brunette leaned his forehead against Newt’s own and smiled at him, looking more nervous than Newt had seen him all night.  
  
“Please go on a date with me?” He asked, and just the tone of his voice would have been enough to make anyone say yes. Newt didn’t even have to think about it, he just smiled and leaned in for another long kiss.  
  
“Was that a yes?”  
  
Newt nodded. “Definitely a bloody yes."


End file.
